


Don't

by combefaerie



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: Blood, From a prompt, Major Character Injury, rated m to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combefaerie/pseuds/combefaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Sid saves Sullivan's life.</p>
<p>It was only a break-in, a failed robbery. Then everything went wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't

The man was mad, clearly not in his right mind. He had been attempting a house break when a neighbour called the police after spotting him climbing through the window. Sullivan could remember thinking that it was odd for him to have chosen that house; the old lady who lived there didn’t have any valuables, and everyone knew that the previous week she had sold the last of her jewellery to continue to eat. As such, why that house was the one to be robbed was a mystery. However this speculation was brought to an abrupt halt when the inspector confronted him, and suddenly there was a gun in the man’s hand. All thoughts melted away like morning snow and he could hear Sergeant Goodfellow urgently telling the would be thief to put the gun down as if through a layer of cotton wool. The man was shouting now, he noted absently, and there was a loud crash from the front of the house followed by running footsteps. Unfortunately this appeared to startle the gunman, and he squeezed the trigger of the pistol.

All at once time was going at double speed, and the figure that jumped in front of Sullivan and pushed him out of the way was nothing but a blur of brown hair. Then he crumpled to the floor as if his strings had been cut, and the inspector realised that it was none other than Sid lying at his feet as he pressed his hands to the red spreading out from his chest. The blood kept coming though, and Sullivan spoke frantically to the other man

"No, no, don’t do this, no, stop, why? Wh-"

His voice cracked on the last word and Sid smiled weakly up at him with blood on his teeth, and reached up a hand to his wrist, gripping with all the strength left in his body. He laughed quietly and murmured to the inspector

"Couldn’t let you die could I? Who else would I annoy…"

With a laugh that was more like a sob Sullivan held Sid until his breath rattled out of his lungs, and only then did he allow himself to cry. The porcelain ornaments on the mantelpiece watched blankly as the man was arrested, and an ambulance called, all the while tears continued to fall.

…

The bed was warm, and smelled strongly of antiseptic. Those were his first thoughts upon waking. The second and third were that the lancing pain caused when he tried to move was extremely unpleasant, couldn’t he get some morphine or something, and that there was a warm weight by his legs. On opening his eyes the blinding white of, well, everything, confirmed to him that he was indeed in a hospital, and the weight turned out to have dishevelled dark hair, and was apparently fast asleep. He looked like he needed it. Sid had no idea what he looked like himself, but Sullivan couldn’t have looked much better, if you discounted the lack of bandages. Smiling fondly he found himself saying as the other man stirred

"Well this is a wake up I could get used to. Don’t you have work you should be doing Inspector?"

Maybe he was on morphine or other painkillers after all, the first bit wasn’t meant to come out there. Not in the slightest. However the look of joy on the policeman’s face made Sid not mind quite as much, maybe it wasn’t a mistake? That would be nice. However Sullivan schooled his face in to one of mild disapproval, the fact that he hadn’t moved his head from resting on the edge of the bed lessening it somewhat, and demanded to know just what Sid thought he was doing.

With a laugh Sid explained how he was on his way back to his caravan from the Red Lion, and had heard shouting from the house. Knowing that Mrs Miller has lived alone since her husband died a few years ago, he knew that something was wrong, and so broke down the front door and came in

"And when I saw the gun… I didn’t really think I guess. Just knew I couldn’t let you get shot."

"You ever think it might be mutual? Because really, don’t do that again Mr Carter, please, don’t. I don’t know what I’d do."

A couple of minutes later when the nurse ushered in Lady Felicia along with Father Brown and Mrs McCarthy the two men were sitting a little further apart, but with smiles on their faces that could light up the room, and Lady Felica thought that when they first came in to the room that they were holding hands. Well. She was glad they had finally gotten their act together. If it could have happened without her chauffeur being shot that would have been nice, but you can’t have everything.


End file.
